


Rhythm of Your Heart

by grunkleceej



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: (sorta - there's texting), Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mentions of underage drinking, Punk!Au, baljeet is in a punk band, buford is a piercing/tattoo apprentice, chatfic, not quite a tattoo shop au but close enough, possibly OOC because its an AU but idc much lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26165104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grunkleceej/pseuds/grunkleceej
Summary: Baljeet is the lead singer in a punk band. Buford is a tattoo/piercing apprentice. They meet by chance, and life finds a way to keep them connected and watch them fall in love.
Relationships: Baljeet Tjinder/Buford van Stomm
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. Nice Try, Punk

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to len for inspiring this entire thing. 
> 
> it really is 2008 in my brain, huh?

Baljeet could fake confidence. 

All he needed to do was stand a little straighter, walk a little smoother, talk a little slower. Dress the part, and you’ll get the part, he’d been told. Speak your intentions into existence. Right now, Baljeet believed He could make anyone believe the words coming out of his mouth with that aura that radiated from him. 

So now all he had to do was to walk into that tattoo shop, lean on the counter, and let the girl behind it know what he wanted. She’d ask no questions, and they’d be done in minutes. Baljeet took a deep breath to steady himself. He could do this. Everything was fine.

Baljeet pulled open the double doors and walked to the counter, practicing the lines he’d rehearsed the entire walk over. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” 

Baljeet was torn from his trance by a low, gravely voice. This was not the girl he had spoken to earlier. _Definitely_ not the girl he’d spoken to earlier. Baljeet’s eyes flipped to the name tag fixed to the person’s shirt that read _Buford He/Him_ , before responding. 

“Hello Buford. I called earlier, in regards to getting a piercing?” 

Baljeet winced. His sudden confidence was gone, replaced by a question and a blush. Go figure a boy with a nose stud and gauges would make his knees weak and ruin his whole charade.

“Sure thing! I’ll get you the forms to fill out in just a sec,” Buford responded. “Can I see your ID?” 

Baljeet blanched. _Confidence,_ he reminded himself. 

“I forgot it! But I can give you my birthdate instead!” 

Buford chewed his gum a little harder as he raised his eyebrows and glanced at the boy in front of him. Skinny jeans and vans, a mess of curls on top of his head, and a thick black choker with a metal hoop. He doubted he was even close to 18. Then again, Buford hardly had room to talk; he'd just turned 19 and was still the baby of the shop.

He shot a quick look over his shoulder, and inwardly gave a sigh of relief when no one was around. 

“I’m sorry man, but no can do.” Buford pointed to the framed list of rules on the wall. “No ID, no service.” 

Baljeet felt his stomach turn. He could do this. Just a little more prodding, a little more pressure, and Buford would surely give in. Before he could respond, Buford was speaking again.

“I can hold a time slot for you, if you want? That way you can run home and grab it, with no wait!” 

Brown eyes met green in a battle for who would make the next move. Baljeet could feel Buford trying to call his bluff. But he would not be swayed so easily! He refused to look away, even with his fingertips starting to shake from nerves. 

“Or…” Buford continued, “You can have your parent or guardian sign off on it instead.” 

“Pfft, they would never approve--”

Baljeet’s hands flew to his mouth as he realized what he was saying. Sure, it didn’t inherently out him as a minor, but he might as well have given Buford his learner’s permit with the way the pierced boy was gleaming. 

“Rule number 1. No minors without consent.” 

“Ugh, this is stupid!” cried Baljeet, throwing his hands up. He was so close! He could have gotten his ears pierced, walked home, and everything would be fine! But no, this Buford character behind the counter had to break down his whole facade and ruin everything. 

“Look man, I get it.” Buford said. “But rules are rules.” 

Baljeet’s mood bordered between upset and angry, and he silently begged himself to not cry. 

So much for that plan. 

And like _hell_ he’d be stepping foot into the cesspool of germs people called Claire’s. 

Buford’s voice broke the silence, at a much softer tone than before. 

“Here’s my card. Gimme a call when you turn 18 and I’ll give you a discount, yeah?” 

He pushed a business card with a handwritten name and number on it toward the teen. Baljeet considered leaving the card and storming out, trying to preserve some of his dignity, but guilt won that battle and he pocketed the card with a small nod. 

“Normally I’m supposed to document all events like this and ban you for a year buuuut…” 

Baljeet gulped as he waited for Buford to continue. 

“My boss is on holiday, and what he doesn’t know won’t kill him!” he finished with a wink. 

Responding with a weak smile, Baljeet muttered, “Thanks.” and let himself out of the shop. 

As he made the short walk home, he only sulked about half the way. He supposed the day could have gone worse...he could be in jail right now. Baljeet shuddered at the thought. If he thought his parents would be mad at the prospect of him having his _ears pierced_ , he couldn’t even imagine what they would do if they received a call from their son in jail. 

Even so, it wasn’t all a loss. Technically (and only technically) he had also gotten the number of a cute boy. Realistically, it meant nothing. But Baljeet and his romantic syrup-filled brain could pretend all he wanted. He chuckled to himself as he unlocked his front door, slipped off his shoes and clicked the lock behind him. 

“I’m home!” Baljeet called to an empty house. 

He made his way to his room, still thinking about the card in his pocket and the boy who had given it to him. Without much hesitation, he quickly punched the number into his messages.  
  


**baljeet:  
****3:56 pm  
**i will def keep in contact, thank you  
this is baljeet from earlier, btw

**unknown number:  
****3:58 pm  
**oh sweet!  
sorry for being such a prick   
wanna keep my job and all that lol

**baljeet:  
****3:58 pm  
**its all cool i totally understand

**unknown number:  
****3:59 pm  
**you shouldnt  
i somehow got my nose pierced at 13

**baljeet:  
****3:59 pm  
**H Y P O C R I T E

**unknown number:  
****4:00 pm  
**i'm 90% sure thats why my boss hired me lmaoo  
it was his fuck up as an apprentice 5 years ago  
he OWES me  
and now im his apprentice >:)

**baljeet:  
****4:00 pm  
**idk kinda sounds like you owe him  
doesn't an apprentice do the dirty work   
i mean you did look p strong, but i could be wrong

**unknown number:  
****4:01 pm  
**i'm very strong thank u  
but also holy shit ur right  
i'm the trash boy.......  
>:( 

**baljeet:  
****4:01 pm  
**does this mean you'll let me get my ears pierced now

**unknown number:  
****4:03 pm  
**nice try punk

**baljeet:  
****4:03 pm  
**worth a shot :p

  
  


* * *

**unknown number:  
****5:57 pm  
**you already know what time it isssss!  
  


_[IMAGE RECEIVED]  
  
_

check out ch'bois dinner for the nighhhttt gordan ramsay can catch these fuckin hannnndssssssss

**5:57 pm  
**holy shit i'm so sorry wrong person

**baljeet:  
****5:58 pm  
**that looks so good wtf you also cook????

**unknown number:  
****6:00 pm  
**i'm a man of many mysteries

  
  
  


Baljeet set his phone in his lap with a smile. 

Maybe that trip to the tattoo shop wasn't a total waste of a day after all.

_[_ ** _Buford_ ** _has been added to contacts.]_


	2. We Should Be Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baljeet's in a band! Buford's had a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i'm so sorry this took forever. life slam dunked me in the trash and said 'no thank you sir' so uhhhh
> 
> please take this and i'll do my best to update again soon! 
> 
> no beta bc i'm a cancer and language is fake

Today had certainly been an eventful day.   
  
Buford ran his fingers through his hair as he thought of the disaster that had been a Friday evening. He shuddered thinking about it, and was incredibly thankful it was over. He was absolutely done thinking about the shop and shop-adjacent things for the next 12 hours. Now, all he wanted was nothing more than to lay face first on his bed, possibly cuddle with his roommate's cat, and stuff himself with more falafel than a human should consume in one day.   
  
But of course, life had other plans for him.  
  
Stepping out of the elevator, Buford's mindless phone scrolling was broken by a voice shouting his name.  
  
He looked up to see none other than Baljeet, the boy he'd turned away from the shop a week ago.   
  
So much for not thinking about the shop.   
  
"Hey! Buford!" Baljeet called from down the hallway.   
  
_It could be worse,_ Buford thought to himself. He met him halfway, and absently motioned to the complex they were within.  
  
"You live here too?"  
  
Shaking his head no, Baljeet adjusted the grip on his backpack. "No, just finishing up a study date with a friend!" 

Buford let out a small "ah" as his stomach rumbled.   
  
Baljeet laughed at the sound, and took the moment to actually look at Buford. He looked absolutely run down and tired. Much different than the boy who'd teased him and (thankfully) let his attempted misdemeanor slide with no more than a slap on the wrist. 

"Rough day at work?" 

Buford deadpanned, motioning from his face to his sweat covered shirt. "What gave it away, the dark circles, or the stains?" 

"The nametag still pinned to you, actually." 

With an angry groan, Buford unpinned his nametag and shoved it into his pocket without thinking. He hissed as the pin stuck his thumb, and retracted his hand with a quiet, "Shit." 

Baljeet pulled his backpack off his shoulders and rummaged around for a second, before standing back up and handing Buford a bandaid. "That's probably not the kind of piercing you want, huh?" 

Before Buford could even tell Baljeet how shitty of a joke that was he was grimacing, and already apologizing for the poorly timed humor. 

"No sweat," Buford chuckled. He motioned to himself instead, "Well, at least on your part." 

Baljeet softly laughed, meeting Buford's eyes and gripped the straps of his backpack. He was ready to walk outside and just wait for his mom, to spare him the embarrassment of being near someone so cool after spitting such an awful joke, when Buford spoke again. 

"Hey, any luck on convincing your parents?"

"No," Baljeet huffed, breaking eye contact with Buford. "They already don't approve of me being in a band. That would just be the icing on the proverbial cake."

Buford raised an eyebrow at Baljeet's words. " _You're_ in a band? What do you play?" 

A smile crept onto Baljeet's face. When he mentioned being in a band, most people took a look at this gangly, nerdy-looking kid with too many textbooks crammed into his backpack and assumed he meant marching band. Hearing someone blindly ask was _so_ refreshing. 

He stood a little taller and responded, "Sometimes I do rhythms, if the song needs it." 

"Guitar, huh?" Buford nudged Baljeet with his elbow, pressing his luck and messing with the younger boy. "You guys play some soft junk or what?" 

Baljeet laughed and pushed his shoulder back against Buford's elbow, a determined look in his eyes and a fire lit in his chest. "Punk, actually." 

"No shit, " said Buford, with a surprised but satisfied expression. He found himself genuinely wanting to know more about Baljeet since they'd met a week ago. Baljeet was snarky, intelligent, and seemed the type to never back down. And despite the ties to the shop, (and even on awful days like the one he was currently having), he still looked forward to their conversations. Chatting with Baljeet made a shitty day just a bit less shitty. 

"You'll have to show me sometime, if you want." 

Baljeet shifted on the heels and balls of his feet.   
  
_I'd_ love _that,_ he thought to himself. He paused for a moment, thinking back to the low-budget music video his band recently made and that they were _so_ proud of. _Perfect._

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and asked, "If you've got a few more minutes, I can show you the music video we filmed?" 

Buford opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of a loud guitar blaring from Baljeet's phone. Thinking he'd already hit play, Buford leaned in close, only for Baljeet to shake his head and press his finger to his lips. He put the phone to his ear and muttered a quiet, "Hi Mom." 

_Ah._

Buford took a step away from Baljeet, giving him space to continue his phone conversation. 

He thought about his own mother, whom he hadn't called in a few days and was probably very unhappy with that fact. He hadn't been able to see her in ages. She was only a few hours away, and it wouldn't hurt to take a trip. Maybe for his birthday in a few months. He made a mental note to remind himself to make a possible plan later. 

"...I'm coming down now. Okay, love you too. Bye!" 

Baljeet sighed and tucked his phone back into his pocket. He gave a weak smile at Buford, and waved. "Maybe next time?" 

"Yeah, that'd be nice." 

They waved their goodbyes and Buford made the short trek to his apartment. He immediately scooped up his roommate's cat, and was welcomed with loud purrs. 

"Hey buddy, wanna take a fat nap with me?" He asked the animal, already heading to his room. 

The second Buford's head hit the pillow, he was out.   
  


\----

  
"You're usually waiting for me before I pull up," Baljeet's mother asked as he got in the car. "Is everything okay?" 

Baljeet set his backpack at his feet, buckled himself in and cradled his phone in his hands. He stared at the message he'd just sent, and smiled. 

"Everything is great."

  
  
\----

**baljeet:  
** **7:27 pm**

_[LINK]_

  
  


**buford:  
** **9:45 pm  
** WHAT  
EXCUSE ME  
BALJEET

**baljeet:  
** **9:45 pm  
** yes? :)

**buford:  
** **9:45 pm  
** YOU SING?????????

**baljeet:  
** **9:46 pm  
** :))))

  
  


Buford stared slack jawed at the video paused on his phone. He'd probably played it three times already. Baljeet wasn't kidding when he said he was in a punk band. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, but Buford _definitely_ did not expect to see Baljeet as the frontman. 

The image paused on his screen was centered on Baljeet, singing his heart out into a mic. He wore beat up sneakers, his hair was half-heartedly gelled, and he had some kind of dark eye makeup going on. The guitar he'd played in the chorus was now slung over his back, hands adorned with fingerless gloves clutching at a tattered crop top as he sang into the microphone. 

Buford swallowed, trying and failing to not burn that image into his brain. 

He's entranced. He's amazed. ~~He's in love? Hardly. He barely knows the guy.~~

Butterflies in his stomach aside, he had to admit; Baljeet was _incredible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like, comment and subscribe for more of ur fav disaster boys in cj's wild tattoo / punk au! >:)

**Author's Note:**

> updating soon! 
> 
> thanks for coming along on this journey and this au with me. >:)
> 
> i'd love to hear what you think, and want to see next!
> 
> content warnings will be placed in beginning of each chapter if necessary / asked!


End file.
